


Pages of a Well-Loved Book

by purple_bookcover



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Books, First Kiss, Fluff, Knights - Freeform, M/M, Post-Canon, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-13
Packaged: 2021-03-13 20:00:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29407305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_bookcover/pseuds/purple_bookcover
Summary: Ashe isn't sure what he'll find when he heads to Fraldarius after the war. Long ago, when they were just students, he and Felix made a promise - when Felix needs loyal knights, Ashe will be there.
Relationships: Ashe Duran | Ashe Ubert/Felix Hugo Fraldarius
Comments: 8
Kudos: 27
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 6





	Pages of a Well-Loved Book

**Author's Note:**

  * For [falooda](https://archiveofourown.org/users/falooda/gifts).



> I still maintain that if IntSys weren't cowards, this is basically how Ashe and Felix's support chain would have ended.

Ashe paused when he emerged from the tangle of the trees. Fraldarius sprawled before him: Thatched roofs, spirals of smoke from hearths, larger structures with overhanging eaves. The streets were smooth and paved. A wall hugged the whole city. And at its peak sat the fortress, tall and sharp and clawing at the sky, a tower of stone built to withstand eons. 

Ashe clutched his reins more tightly. Somehow, every step his horse took toward the city made Ashe feel even smaller. By the time his horse’s hooves clattered on the stone streets, Ashe may as well have been a mouse. 

He dismounted, leading his horse through the bustle of the city. Barely mid-day and the rush of activity threatened to crush him. Merchants shouted their wares, children darted between the throng, clangs of metal rang out from the smithies. 

Ashe nearly turned and fled. He didn’t belong here. He was just an orphan from a tiny little backwoods town. 

He steeled himself and pressed on. He had to continue. They were counting on him to continue. If he stopped now, he’d return to Gaspard a failure. 

They’d suffered far too much failure of late. 

The war had taken its toll, left fields and villages ravaged. Gaspard wasn’t powerful or large before the fighting broke out; now, it was hardly a town. 

Thus, Ashe wound his way up the streets of Fraldarius and right to the doors of the fortress, hoping to bring honor and pride to his home. The guards appraised him with raised eyebrows and twitching smirks. Ashe swallowed, patting his saddlebags, reassured by the feel of the book within. 

“I need to see the duke,” Ashe said. 

The guards blinked at each other, then at Ashe.

Then, they laughed. 

“And who might you be, little mouse, that you can just ride up and see the duke?” a woman with a pike said. 

“I am...” Ashe had to swallow to continue. “I am Ashe Ubert.” 

“Never heard of ya.” 

“I attended the academy with him,” Ashe said.

The guards shared a glance. 

“Shoo, little mouse,” the woman said. “The duke is busy.”

“But—”

Her partner stepped forward, brandishing his own pike. “She said, shoo. Run along. We’ve no need for mice scurrying about here.” 

Ashe meant to protest, but the guard held his weapon in a ready position. Ashe had a sword with him, but the moment he drew it was the moment this turned from a disagreement to a brawl. 

His shoulders slumped. Ashe turned around, leading his horse away. He’d nearly escaped the fortress and its glaring, laughing guards when someone shouted for him.

Ashe froze, back still to the edifice. 

The call came again.

“Ashe.”

#

“I don’t see how this is relevant.” 

Ashe bumped his shoulder against Felix’s. “Whatever.” For all his complaining, Felix always showed up to their little study dates. They lay side by side on their stomachs on a rug in a corner of the school’s library, shoulders nearly touching. 

A book sat open before them. Ashe jabbed his finger to the page. “There,” he said. “This part is about how the knight pledged fealty to his lord.” 

Felix sighed. They lay so close Ashe could feel the slight heat of his breath against his hand. 

“I’m not a lord,” Felix said.

“You will be some day though,” Ashe said.

“Maybe,” Felix said. “I don’t want to think about it.” 

“You’ll be great,” Ashe said. “I’m sure.” 

Felix snorted, but it was not an unkind sound. In the moons they’d spent reading together, sneaking off to the library for quiet moments away from the rest of the Officers Academy, Ashe had learned to read his noises. Felix was more expressive than people gave him credit for, if one only took the time to understand him. The rest of the Blue Lions might have seen Felix as cold, distant and harsh, but Ashe didn’t believe it, not from the first moment he’d shoved a book at him and asked him to read it. Felix had accepted, incredibly, and they’d gone on sharing these stories about knights and dragons and kings ever since. 

Felix glanced aside, shyly meeting Ashe’s gaze. “How can you be sure?”

“Huh?” It was hard to remember what they’d been talking about when those amber eyes met his. It was a rare treat, like a perfect, cloudless night with a full moon, bright and precious and fleeting. 

“How can you be sure that I’ll … ‘be great,’ as you said,” Felix said. His gaze flickered away, back down to the book. His hair fell forward, masking his face. How Ashe longed to tuck it behind his ear and get another peek. 

“Because you’re...” 

He caught himself, but only just. 

“Because I’ll help you,” Ashe said.

Another sideways glance from Felix. 

“See? It’s right here.” Ashe pressed his finger to the page open before them. “The lord doesn’t do it alone. He has his knight there beside him.”

“And you...” Felix said. 

He was still looking up at Ashe, peering at him from the side. A flush washed through Ashe’s face. 

“I-I, uh,” Ashe said. “I mean, I didn’t intend to imply that... I just...” 

Felix sat up and Ashe rushed to follow. Heat surged into Ashe’s cheeks and clouded around his ears. He knew how he must look, but Felix faced him utterly calm and composed, amber eyes cool. 

“I’ll have need of loyal knights some day,” Felix said. “If I really do become...” He waved at the book. “It would be foolish of me to turn down one like you.” 

The heat climbed higher. Ashe trembled before Felix, clutching at the fabric of his school uniform to quiet the shaking of his hands. “I’ll work hard,” he said.

A hint of a smile ghosted across Felix’s lips. “I know.” 

They sat captive in that moment. Felix’s eyes held steady on Ashe’s. Ashe drank in every moment of that unlikely, precious contact, swearing to himself that whatever Felix saw, whatever he believed, Ashe would make it real. He would be the knight in the story, the knight Felix saw in him. 

He clung to that promise even as the war drove them apart, even as the world flung them in opposite directions. Ashe rushed to Gaspard, trying to save what was left of his family and home. And Felix. Felix served his king. Felix fought in the war. And when the dust settled, he became the Duke of Fraldarius.

#

“Ashe.” 

Ashe froze, his back to the fortress, his reins tangled in his hands. He turned, hardly believing that voice, hardly believing the specter it belonged to.

Felix stood before him. It was still Felix, even with his hair longer and his face more lined. Even with that fine cape of navy and white. Even with all the silver thread in his vest and the lack of a sword on his hip. 

“Sir,” one of the guards said, “this man was trying to get into the fortress. He was demanding to see you.”

Felix raised a hand and the guard went silent. “Take his horse.”

“But Duke F—”

Felix swung toward the guard. “Take his horse.” He waved. “Ashe, come.” 

Ashe dropped his reins from a limp hand. He only barely remembered to grab his saddlebag before stumbling after Felix, who strode into the fortress with all the authority and poise the Duke of Fraldarius warranted. 

The halls echoed around them, cavernous and cold. Stone. Everything was stone. The floor, the stairs, the walls. Here and there, a tapestry attempted to warm one surface, but it stood out more than it softened. Weapons stood to attention in displays. Soldiers in leather armor nodded at Felix as he passed. The windows let in the cold, watery light of Fraldarius, casting everything in blue. 

Felix led Ashe up a flight of stairs and down a narrower hall to a small chamber. Ashe paused just inside the doorway. 

It was a study, of sorts. Or perhaps a library. A rare room of repose in this place made for battle. A fire crackled in a hearth. A desk sat near a window. Books topped the desk and a large leather armchair, books and scrolls and ink and all manner of paperwork, enough paper to fund a hundred feasts for all of Gaspard. The rug before the fire did actually manage to warm the room, or perhaps it was merely the red glow of the flames. Either way, in this cozy, confined space, Ashe finally let out a held breath and relaxed his bunched up shoulders. 

Felix faced him. 

All the hard authority evaporated. He looked tired, those lines under his eyes carving deeper than they used to. His cheeks had hollowed out, accentuating every hard plane. But his amber eyes were as bright and keen as ever.

“I can’t believe you’re here,” Felix said. 

“I said I would help you, didn’t I?” Ashe said. 

A wry smile twisted Felix’s mouth. “I wasn’t exactly counting on the promises of children.” 

“Well maybe you should have.” Ashe dug into his saddlebag, pulling free an old, worn book with a fraying cover. “Do you want to read some?” 

Felix lifted an eyebrow. “That’s why you came here? To read?” 

“No,” Ashe said, “but I thought it might be a nice place to start.” 

He didn’t wait for a response, settling down on his stomach on that rug before the fire. Ashe loosened his cloak and wriggled out of his boots, enjoying the warmth after so many days on horseback. 

Felix lowered beside him. 

His lovely cape and fine clothing looked outrageous beside Ashe’s dirty, dusty traveling getup, but neither of them said anything of it as they settled down and Ashe spread the book open before them. He didn’t wait for Felix to object, didn’t give him time to feel awkward and uneasy. Ashe simply started reading. 

The embers died to glowing red coals by the time Ashe finished. He closed the book and glanced aside at Felix … who was entirely asleep. Somehow, that only deepened the exhaustion weathering his face. Ashe gathered his discarded cloak, laying it over Felix. He hesitated a moment, then crawled under the cloak himself, snuggling in as close as he could without actually touching Felix. The journey from Gaspard took days; Ashe could use a nap himself.

He didn’t even realize he’d fallen asleep until Felix woke beside him with a start, disturbing the cloak. 

“Shit.” 

Ashe blinked the sleep from his eyes. The study lay dark. The fire had died entirely. The meager, cold light beyond the windows had dimmed to darkness. Ashe could hardly find his own hands as he struggled to sit up. 

“We slept all day,” Felix said, rubbing his hair. It came loose of its tie, a wild tangle that spilled past his shoulders. 

“Guess we both needed the rest,” Ashe said.

Felix shook his head. “I don’t have time. I need to...” 

Ashe touched his wrist, drawing his frantic hands out of his hair. “It’s late. There’s no point rushing around now. The day is already done. Worry about it tomorrow.”

“You don’t understand,” Felix said. “There’s so much. I can’t just sleep away an entire day.” 

“The damage is done,” Ashe said. “And tomorrow you’ll have extra help.” 

That halted Felix’s frantic buzz of anxiety. He stilled, gaze settling on Ashe. 

“That’s why I came here,” Ashe said, “to help you.” Ashe was grateful for the dark, for the way it probably, hopefully, masked the warmth climbing his neck. He’d practiced this over and over on his long journey here, but it still felt clumsy on his tongue. When he tried it out loud before an actual duke it sounded ridiculous.

Felix pressed. “Why _did_ you come here? I didn’t ask. When I saw you out there I just … reacted.” 

“I, um, well,” Ashe said. “It was just... The book.” He waved at the tome on the floor. 

Felix’s face pinched with uncertainty.

“I know it sounds crazy,” Ashe said. “It’s just that Gaspard is … they don’t need me. Not anymore. The war is done and they’re little more than a town at this point and everything is going well enough there and I just thought that maybe, if you remember that book we used to read, that I might...” Gods, what was he even trying to say anymore? All the carefully prepared words flew from his mind as he stuttered on. 

“Ashe,” Felix said. He set a hand on Ashe’s shoulder, quieting him, calming him. He’d always had that effect. The steadiness of his presence had always soothed the noise in Ashe’s mind. Secretly, Ashe hoped he did the same for Felix, at least once in a while. 

“You know,” Felix said, “I have been in need of … well, loyal knights, those who would offer their service and fealty to Fraldarius. To me.” 

Ashe swallowed, mouth going dry. 

“Since the war, we’ve had a lot of rebuilding to do,” Felix went on. “It isn’t glamorous work or stories anyone will be inclined to write books about, but it’s honorable and it’s necessary. I have need of every hand willing to do it. If that is truly why you came here.”

“It is,” Ashe said. 

“You would have to wear the colors of Fraldarius,” Felix said. “We would need to make you one of ours. You’d have to live here, train here, work here, everything.”

Ashe set his hand atop Felix’s where it lay on his shoulder. Something shifted as their skin met, even in this small, insignificant way. The room seemed brighter. Felix seemed closer. Ashe shuffled a little nearer, just to see him better in the dark, but it made their knees bump together. 

Felix’s gaze flickered down at the contact, but he did not pull away. In fact, he brought that hand around so that he held Ashe’s now. 

“And I may have need of advisors as well,” Felix said. “People I know I can trust.” 

He squeezed Ashe’s hand as he spoke and some silent agreement passed between them, some unspoken ache of time and distance and cold, lonely days. They might have been the boys back in the library again, except that those idealistic boys were long, long gone. 

It did not mean they could not still take comfort in each other’s presence. 

Ashe tipped forward, waiting for Felix to reel away, to flee, but he didn’t. He met Ashe along the way, their lips brushing together soft as the pages of a well-loved book, worn and weathered but all the more precious for that. They breathed against each other and pressed harder, mouths searching for all the places they’d neglected so long. Felix was cool and mild, but when Ashe snuck his tongue into his mouth, he tasted the hint of heat lurking beneath the surface. 

Ashe sank closer to Felix. He hadn’t traveled all this way for this. He hadn’t even dared consider it in all the long years they’d spent apart. But now that it was here it seemed the most natural conclusion possible, the only proper ending to the tale. 

They separated but did not go far, hands still clasped. 

“I don’t think that’s how Loog becomes a knight in the story,” Felix said. 

Ashe chuckled. “Well, maybe not. Can it still count, though?” 

Felix swept in for a swifter kiss. “Perhaps. Just this once. _Sir_ Ubert.”


End file.
